Egon Tusk - Ch 1

The Secret Service SUV cruised down the freeway, its interior silent save for the soft hum of the engine. In the back seat, Egon Tusk sat bound with gleaming, high-tech restraints that glowed faintly blue against his wrists. His usually untamed hair was plastered to his forehead with sweat, his eyes darting nervously around the cabin.

Egon muttered to himself, his voice low and frenetic. “They think they can hold me. Fools. They don’t understand. None of them do.”

The two agents in the front seat exchanged wary glances but said nothing. Egon’s file was thick with bizarre behavior, and they’d been briefed to expect strange outbursts. Still, nothing had prepared them for what was about to unfold.

As the SUV rounded a bend, Egon’s gaze locked onto the faint reflection of the driver’s face in the rearview mirror. For a moment, the world seemed to warp and twist, the dull gray upholstery of the car shimmering into crimson hues. The driver’s face stretched unnaturally, his features elongating until they no longer resembled anything human.

“Martians,” Egon whispered, his pupils dilating. “You’re Martians. I knew it.”

The agents stiffened. “What was that?” the driver asked, his tone sharp.

Egon sat up straighter, his restraints clinking as he moved. “You can’t fool me,” he said, his voice growing louder. “I’ve seen your kind before. The green sheen to your skin, the way your antennae twitch when you think no one’s looking. You’re from the Elders, aren’t you?”

The passenger agent turned to face him, frowning. “Mr. Tusk, we need you to calm down.”

“Calm down?” Egon barked, his voice rising to a near-shriek. “How can I calm down when Martians are kidnapping me?! I’m one of you! I’m your brother! Your ambassador! You have to let me go—I need to return to Mars!”

“Mr. Tusk—”

“Do you have any idea what’s happening on Earth?” Egon interrupted, his words tumbling over each other in a torrent of barely coherent panic. “The pollution, the wars, the unchecked greed! The Elders warned me this would happen. I need to speak with them. I need to report to them about Grump! That man is a menace, a blight on the cosmos!”

The agents exchanged another uneasy glance.

“He canceled my mission!” Egon continued, his face reddening with fury. “He sabotaged my return to Mars! Do you know what that means? The terraforming, the colonies—it’s all on hold! The dream of a new utopia, where the air is clean and the mushrooms grow wild and free... all of it, ruined!”

“Mr. Tusk, you’re being detained for questioning,” the driver said firmly. “Mars can wait.”

“Mars can’t wait!” Egon screamed, his voice cracking. “Do you even understand the stakes? Earth is a ticking time bomb, and you—Martian traitors—are standing in my way!”

Without warning, Egon lunged against his restraints, thrashing wildly in the back seat. The glowing cuffs restrained his arms, but his legs kicked out violently, slamming against the doors and seats.

“You can’t stop me!” he shouted. “I’ll break free! I’ll hijack this car if I have to!”

“Control yourself, Mr. Tusk!” the passenger agent barked, unholstering a small, sleek device.

“I’m the savior of two planets! You’re just drones, mindless drones!” Egon roared, kicking the back of the driver’s seat with such force that the SUV swerved slightly.

“Deploying taser,” the passenger agent said grimly.

A quick burst of electric current crackled through the air, striking Egon square in the chest. His body jerked violently, his words reduced to incoherent garbles as the electricity coursed through him.

“Cease resistance,” the driver said over his shoulder.

But Egon was far from done. As the taser deactivated, he slumped for a moment, his breathing ragged. Then, with renewed fury, he began thrashing again, his head slamming against the window as he screamed about the “cosmic betrayal” of his captors.

The passenger agent sighed. “Tase him again.”

Another crackle of electricity filled the car, and Egon convulsed once more, his body twisting awkwardly as his limbs flailed.

“You... won’t... stop... me!” he sputtered, even as his muscles betrayed him.

A faint, acrid smell filled the air. The agents wrinkled their noses in unison.

“Great,” the driver muttered. “He wet himself.”

By the time the SUV reached the Secret Service headquarters, Egon was slumped against the seat, his hair a wild mess and his eyes glazed. His chest rose and fell in shallow gasps, his damp pants clinging uncomfortably to his legs.

The agents opened the door and hauled him out, keeping a firm grip on his arms as they led him inside.

“You’ll regret this,” Egon mumbled, his voice hoarse. “The Elders are watching. They’ll know what you’ve done.”

The agents exchanged a glance but said nothing, their faces a mix of irritation and exhaustion.

As Egon was led down the sterile hallway, his mind was already spinning with new delusions. He muttered under his breath about secret plots and Martian revenge, his thoughts clouded by rage and lingering hallucinations.

Somewhere deep inside, though, a small voice whispered: What if they’re right? What if you’re not from Mars?

He pushed the thought away violently.